


Lonely is the Night

by Cat_Moon



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Banter, Developing Relationship, M/M, Poignant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 18:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Cat_Moon
Summary: Sometimes he doesn't want to be alone.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	Lonely is the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: November Challenge N Bingo card fill: 'Night Clothes', at [](https://fffc.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](https://fffc.dreamwidth.org/)**fffc**

Jack paused outside the door, uncharacteristically hesitant. He normally didn't show up at Ianto's flat unannounced and was uncertain if he should start what could become a bad habit. Something had led his feet there though, he'd feel foolish if he didn't follow through. He knocked.

It seemed like a long time until he heard the voice on the other side. “Who is it?”

He had to clear his throat before words would emerge. “It's me. Jack,” he added.

Another period of waiting followed, as if Ianto was debating on what to do. Jack wasn't sure he blamed him.

Finally, the door opened. “Is everything all right? Was there an alert?” He was no doubt trying to puzzle out why Jack would be coming in person to inform him of a work-related situation rather than calling his mobile.

“No, I, uh, was in the neighborhood.”

And just decided to pop by. Sure. The disbelief was written on Ianto's face before he adapted a neutral expression and waved Jack inside.

Ianto had a dressing gown on. Not a robe or one of those nightshirts that were popular. It reminded Jack of the kind Laurel and Hardy wore in those old movies they sometimes watched. Long, white, with several buttons down the front. It was an old fashioned look, incongruous for a young man Ianto's age. He would have expected pants and a T-shirt instead.

“Is this what you wear to bed at home?” Jack couldn't help asking, gesturing to the nightgown. He'd never been there overnight, and when they were at the Hub they mostly stayed naked, for convenience sake.

“Is there something wrong with my choice of night clothing?” Ianto queried with a raised brow.

Jack welcomed the frivolous distraction. This he could always fall back on, as automatic as breathing. “Are you wearing anything underneath?” he asked with a leer.

Ianto rolled his eyes but answered. “No.”

The conversation was definitely veering in a direction Jack enjoyed. “Is it...you know, _freeing?" _he said with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

“It's comfortable.” Ianto shrugged.

“I get it, letting everything all hang out. Easy access. Reminds me of kilts. I dated this Scotsman once...”

“Jack, why are you here?” Ianto interrupted impatiently.

Why indeed. The diversion hadn't given him enough time to come up with an excuse. Or even an answer, since he wasn't quite certain. Or maybe that was a lie.

“What if I said I don't know?” he countered with arms crossed defensively.

“Okay,” Ianto responded simply. “Would you like some tea?”

“I don't want to disrupt your evening,” Jack backpedaled, glancing at the door longingly.

“Twpsyn,” Ianto muttered. “You just came here to critique my sleeping attire then?” he said louder, then turned and walked into the kitchen.

With a last look at his escape route, Jack mentally shrugged and followed him, leaning against the door-jam and watching as he put water on and got the supplies out of cupboards.

“Do you ever have nightmares?” He bit his lip the moment it came out. What had possessed him to come? This wasn't him. Unfortunately, the roof of the tall building hadn't seemed adequate tonight. So here he was, revealing way more than he was comfortable with and not understanding why.

Ianto snorted. “Only on days with a Y in them.”

It was nice to wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream and not be alone. It had been quite a while since he'd experienced that small comfort. Maybe too long, he thought. “What's tip-sin mean?” he asked.

Ianto shook his head at the question. “Why do you do that?” he wondered aloud. “You've lived in Wales long enough to have picked up more than a few things, yet you act as if you're fresh off the boat from America.”

“It's part of my charm.” In actuality, he'd had that very word lobbed at him more than once and even by Ianto, so he wasn't being truthful when he pretended it was unfamiliar.

“For anyone who falls for that,” Ianto quipped.

Jack moved closer. “You mean to tell me you haven't fallen for my charms?” he questioned flirtatiously.

“Depends,” was the evasive response. “Are you going to stand there all night?” He pointedly glanced from Jack to one of the chairs. “Or haven't you decided yet if you're staying?”

Jack made a show of pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Soon the tea was finished, and Ianto was bringing it over to the table and sitting across from him.

Jack nodded his thanks and took a sip, nearly choking in surprise at the taste of a generous helping of whiskey. He hadn't noticed that particular ingredient being added. “You're not trying to get me drunk, are you Mr. Jones?”

Ianto's attention stayed on his own mug. “Hot Toddy. It's good for nightmares,” he answered quietly.

Sometimes Jack forgot how astute Ianto was. He didn't know why, it was a rookie mistake, but something about this man got under his radar. Possibly it was more comforting that way than to admit how dangerous Ianto was to him.

As they shared their drinks in silent companionship, Jack tried to tell himself this was not a good idea. It was crossing a line that they had an unspoken agreement to steer clear of. What they had was fun, casual. No strings. Showing up in the middle of the night because he didn't want to be alone was not casual. Still, he couldn't seem to care right now. It was alarming how much he didn't care.

“Thanks,” he told him when they'd finished their drinks, wondering if it would turn awkward now that they didn't have a task to focus on.

“You're welcome,” Ianto responded as he took the mugs to the sink. “Oh,” he began, studiously offhand, as if he'd only now thought of it. Jack might almost have bought it, Ianto was _that_ good. “I suppose I shouldn't have spiked your tea.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can't drink and drive,” he clarified. “You'll have to stay here.”

“Oh,” Jack said as the light-bulb went off in his head. “Right. It would be a hassle to try and get a taxi this time of night.”

“No doubt. Easier to just stay.”

He should have made some innuendo filled comments, that was his MO. It would be expected. Instead, he found himself muttering a thanks.

Jack figured Ianto had probably planned it that way. He'd always had an uncomfortable ability to manipulate him, usually without him noticing. Lately, though, he had to admit it was in his best interests. Then he decided he didn't care about that, either.

He followed Ianto into the bedroom.

**The end**

11/1/19


End file.
